Love the Ghosts

Baby I’m sorry. I’m sorry for the cold shoulder. The arctic bone chilling air resonates from my body and you just happened to walk through the danger zone. But how can I say danger zone when all I am is dangerous. There is not designated part of me to avoid. I’m like nuclear waste site that says welcome instead of warning. If you touch anything or get near anything your body is permanently damaged. I’m like a four way intersection with no stop signs. I’m like a crosswalk that always says it’s good to go just hoping for someone dumb enough to cross and get hit. I’m like a bomb that has no timer or tick, a bomb with no warning. I am like a haunted house that has been fixed up and looks perfectly fine from the outside. The house if deceivingly beautiful and draws you in but when you go inside you want to evacuate. I am like a gift torn open on Christmas day only to find out there’s nothing in the box or at most a broken toy. A gift that brings so much hope and joy at first only ends up being empty. I am empty. I am a horror film that surprises you with jump scares at any moment. The crazy switches in emotion just jumping from around the corner and making creaking sounds all night. I am a flickering light just waiting to burn out. The light inspiring hope but ends up shutting off. Baby I’m sorry I am this way. Baby I am sorry that I try to push you away. But baby I hate it as much as you do. Baby please don’t leave me. Please help me change. Please give me a reason to change. Baby please help me be better. Baby don’t run from my haunted house and instead learn to love the ghosts. Learn to love me.

 

This poem is about: 
Me

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